It took us a little while to clean up the mess from Mima’s flower arranging, and it was just one more thing to do before Tom and then Simon, came home. Si had promised to try and get home early to see Mima before she went to bed.

The dinner was all cooking itself, I’d basted the chicken with a garlic mix, which tended to bring out the juices, and it also smelt rather appetising. I wondered who would turn up first. It was Tom, who walked in sniffed and said, “That smells delicious, Cathy. Now where’s that little urchin?” and the human cannonball hurtled into the room and grabbed his leg.

“Mima, please don’t run in the house, especially in the kitchen, you could get hurt.”

“Sowwee, Mumm-meee,” she said with total insincerity.

“Don’t go on to her, it’s my fault.” Tom did the grandparent bit.

“Well, then there’s no tea for you, it’s off to bed with you.”

“But, Mummy, I’ve only just come in and I’m looking forward to my tea,” Tom whined and Mima giggled.

“Shall I let Grampa Tom have some dinner?”

“Yes, he hungwee.”

“Okay, just this once.” I told Tom that Mima had had her meal and was waiting to be changed and read to prior to going to bed.

“What? You want me to change her?”

“Yes, is there a problem, I have gravy to make. I’ll ask Stella if you want.”

“I’m just wondering about, you know, social services.”

“You make the gravy and I’ll change her.”

“No, I’m perfectly capable of changing a nappy.”

“Mima not have nappies!” said an enraged Mima standing right alongside him.

“Oh, that’s even easier.”

“Well, duh–go and do it then.”

He’d just gone upstairs with Mima when Simon arrived. “Babes, that smells so good and I am so hungry. But gi’s a kiss first.” He grabbed me and hugged me and it hurt like hell.

I pushed him away, “Ouch, Simon, I am so tender in the boobs, sorry but that hurts.”

“That’s okay, Babes.” He stood to the side of me and kissed me. I wanted some more kisses but Mima was down again in her pyjamas and dressing gown.

“Daddy Simon,” she yelled and ran straight at Simon, who picked her up and swung her knocking the flowers off the table and all over me.

“Oh thanks, Simon, I really needed that,” or something like that, maybe with a few more Fs in it. He laughed and so did Mima. I left Tom to watch over the saucepans whilst I flew upstairs and changed my trousers. I actually put on a skirt, for the first time in ages. Then trotted down stairs followed by big belly Cameron.

Tom carved the chicken which had been cooling after a couple of hours roasting, they call it resting the joint or fowl. I dished up the vegetables. Mima wanted Simon to read to her, so out came the Milne again, and he went upstairs with his newest girlfriend, whilst we all waited for the story to end before we could eat.

Fifteen minutes is a long time to wait, especially when the air around you is screaming food at you. My stomach was rumbling as Stella and Tom tried to make polite conversation. Finally, Simon returned.

“I love that kid, I really do,” he said as we all sat down at the dining table.

“Just as well,” I replied, tasting the chicken. Iit was every bit as good as it smelt, “cos it’s your turn to take her to the park tomorrow, while Stella and I go shopping.”

“Sure, you coming, Tom?”

“Aye a’richt.”

“Bloody foreigners,” I said, smirking.

“Hark who’s talking, ye’re hardly a native here yersel’.”

“But she does do a neat garlic chicken,” said Stella, coming to my aid.

“I’m glad to see the age of chivalry isn’t dead, even if it does require a female knight to defend me.”

“Ye need defending frae me?” said Tom with indignation.

“Only when you go all Scottish nationalist on me, then you sound like Sean Connery without the whistle.”

“Sean Connery without the whistle?”

“Yeah, if you listen to him talking he whistles on his sibilants.”

“Aye that’ll be the cheap teeth he got frae the NHS, I expect.”

“More likely American, they all have such huge white teeth, they dazzle in the sun and look as natural as Victoria Beckham’s tan. Maybe she does subliminal advertising for Orange.”

“The future’s tanned, the future is orange. Yeah has a nice ring about it.” Stella can’t stand Posh Beckham, don’t know why, she can pull rank on her, she’s rich and has a title, where as Posh is just rich. I suppose having David Beckham on your arm opens a few doors, and he seems a nice guy unless you’re in goal against one of his curling free kicks.

“Anyone for wine?” asked Tom opening a bottle of Merlot. Simon had his glass up very quickly. As soon as all the glasses were full, Tom said, “I propose a toast to the cook, who apart from cooking this gorgeous repast, is absolutely beautiful and my adopted daughter.”

Glasses were clinked together and I sat cringing under the attention. “She might be your adopted daughter, Tom, but she’s my adopted fiancée and carer to my sister and our adopted banshee.”

“Huh, she’s my sister in law to be and helper to me and my baby,” said Stella, practically sticking out her tongue at Simon.

“Can we stop the accolades? It’s so boring being the only perfect human on the planet.” They all laughed and we went back to normal conversation. At bedtime, Stella went on alone to her own room while Simon looked at the pretty patterns the bruising had left on my breasts.

“Geez, girl, that must have bloody hurt.”

“At the time, I felt quite sick.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He produced some massage oil and gently rubbed them with what smelt like lavender. Much of this and I’d be asleep in moments. His touch was so deft and so gentle as he massaged my breasts and down round to my waist and the tops of my legs.

“Babes, you awake?” called this voice from miles away. I felt myself shaken. “Jemima’s awake, what do I do?”

I felt myself resurfacing from waters that were so deep and in which I was enjoying my swim. “What?”

“Mima’s awake.”

I sat up and looked at him. “What?”

“Mima,” he hissed at me, “is awake.”

“What? you woke me up to tell me that? What are you, some sort of moron?”

“Well, what do I do?”

“Nothing, she’ll go back to sleep if you leave her. She sometimes talks in her sleep.”

“Oh, does she? She’s alright, I take it?”

“Of course she is, brighter than you lot of hooray Henries.”

“Thanks, Cathy, I love you too.”